


the flow of your name is on my lips

by dramasode



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boys Kissing, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Late Night Drives, Light Angst, M/M, Minho is bad at feelings, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Past Relationships, Pining, Rivalry, Slice of Life, a lot of fluff, a tad bit of jealousy, boys in love ( don’t tell jisung though ), jisung needs hugs, very light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25061872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramasode/pseuds/dramasode
Summary: It felt wrong, being this intimate with him. In reality, it was perfectly fine, it could be brushed off as being close friends, or as friends are expected to be over a decade of being familiar with each other. But, there’s a possibility that Jisung would lose his patience and grip Minho by his nape, and kiss him like they wouldn’t see the dawn of tomorrow. Minho hoped he would.(or, minho and his best friend share a talk, or a little more than that.)
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Kudos: 77





	the flow of your name is on my lips

Jisung wasn’t used to feeling stuck. 

His feelings were a flowing stream, call him moody, but he’d be down one second and perfectly fine the next. It wasn’t anything special, he’d say. It was just the way he was built, from how he grew up. His life was fast paced, in a bustling city, no room for error. He learned to get with the program before he’d be left behind. Feeling lost for a longer period than usual is strange to him. Knowing his emotions won’t just fade as they usually do, is also strange to him. 

Minho had stuck around long enough to know this wasn’t a normal occurrence. When Jisung stopped showing up to their culinary club meetings, when he’d stopped bugging Minho to drive him around due to lack of a license, when he’d cut all ties with his boyfriend out of nowhere, Minho knew all too well, something was up. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Seungmin sighed, playing with the pages of a thorn up textbook. Minho glanced at the time displayed on his phone, shrugging. “I get that you’re mad, or whatever, but like,” he huffed, catching a grip on the book and setting it down on the coffee table. “I can’t sit and watch him be so irresponsible.” Minho said, more to himself than to Seungmin. The latter finally looked up to him, eyes blank. 

“First off, I’m not mad. I’m concerned-”

“You really don’t look like you are.” 

Seungmin glared at him, a silent warning to let him finish. 

“I’m concerned, obviously. Anybody who knows Jisung would be, but don't you like, maybe, think you’re a little bit… too concerned?” Seungmin cringed at his words, expecting a horrid reaction, probably. 

Minho merely blinked, “What d’you mean?” He hadn’t been aware there was such a thing as being ‘too concerned’ for somebody you care about. Now that it’s mentioned, he seems to question whether Seungmin’s being negligent or if he himself is just being obsessive. 

Seungmin just says silent for a while, toying with the blanket sitting on the couch as he ponders over the correct words. Minho starts to question whether he should’ve visited him in the first place. 

“I’m glad you’re willing to go check on him, but what if he’s doing this for a reason? People lose interest in their hobbies, that’s probably why he stopped culinary classes. And maybe he isn’t hanging with you anymore because, uh, he’s swarmed with schoolwork? And maybe, he just,” He pauses to run his tongue over his slightly chapped lips, “Maybe he lost interest in me too, you know?” Seungmin shakes his head and shrugs, brushing past it to lighten the atmosphere. 

“Those all sound like stupid excuses that you came up with to substitute what’s actually going on.” Minho retaliates as if it’s a fact, and Seungmin sighs again, heavier than the first few times. 

He’s getting frustrated. 

“I was just trying to warn you, maybe make you give it a little more thought.” 

Minho chuckles dryly, “Jisung’s not an animal, I don't see the need for a warning.” Minho chews on the soft inside of his cheek, “You missed my point,” he mumbled. “If you wanna go, then go.” Seungmin said, finished with fighting a one-sided battle. 

“I didn’t need permission,” Minho finally stands to grab his keys, “but thanks.” Seungmin scoffs, “You seem like you waited around for it.” While the words really have no deep meaning, it makes Minho pause for a second, before grunting as a half-assed response and slipping his shoes on. 

Perhaps he did stick around for Seungmin’s useless input. 

The trip to Jisung’s house is lonelier than expected. A part of Minho wishes that he and Seungmin would be able to get along perfectly well, to confront Jisung together, and to cooperate for other tasks too. However, as many things between Minho and Seungmin do, it seems as though it’s a competition. 

The other part of him finds it entertaining, the bickering, all the banter. While he has that sort of relationship with Jisung, it was different with Seungmin. It was more realistic, because with Jisung, Minho always knew he was merely joking. With Seungmin, however, he thinks that the comebacks to his snarky remarks couldn’t be so quick unless Seungmin had thought of those hurtful words beforehand. 

And that’s okay, he supposes, because life really isn’t all jokes and playing around. Minho guesses Seungmin taught him that words have meaning sometimes, and words can hurt. 

In that way, it’s made Minho a bit of a better person, because even though he’s impulsive with his actions, he thinks before he speaks. 

His lingering thoughts halt when he pulls up to Jisung’s house, peering through the passenger’s window to get a clearer view. It’s around eleven on a Saturday night, Jisung surely wouldn’t have been asleep. Minho chews on his bottom lip, Seungmin’s words like a broken cassette tape in his head, replaying more frequently than they should’ve. 

With a final clearing of his throat, he goes to knock on the door. The door’s nice, a glass screen door protecting the main one. He rings the doorbell, shifting on his feet idly. Jisung’s mother is the one who answers, unexpectedly. 

“Oh, Minho! How’re you?” He says, bringing him in for a hug almost immediately. Minho chuckles to be polite, “Uh, I’ve been pretty good, actually. I was wondering if Jisung was home?” He asked, pulling away from her embrace. “He’s always home nowadays, locked up in his bedroom.” Jisung’s mother smiles, inviting him in. “I figured, is it okay if I take him out for a drive?” He knows she’ll most likely say yes, but it was common decency to ask. 

She glances at the clock perched on a shelf sitting nearby, and her lips get pulled into a tight line. “Sure, but get back at a reasonable time, and be safe. It’s not like I have to worry about that when he’s with you, but I’m just … making sure.” She reassures, and Minho gives her a little smile before heading up to meet Jisung. 

He gives a little knock to the first room by the creaky stairway, and there’s a muffled ‘come in.’ 

It’s alarming when Minho finds him sitting in the little spot by the big window, with the rusted chains that pull the dusty blinds open. He looks as if he’s reminiscing, and oddly, the scene is too sensual. His earphones are plugging his ears, Minho’s surprised that he even heard his knock. 

“Uh, hey.” Jisung looks startled when he hears Minho’s gravelly voice instead of his mother’s boisterous one. He rushes to pull his earphones out, staring at Minho, almost like he’s an alien. “Um, hey. What’s-” Jisung interrupts himself, suddenly standing and ushering him in, closing the door behind them. He leans back against it, “What’re you doing here?” Jisung asks, hushed.

It’s all too quiet, Minho thinks, they haven’t been this quiet while in the same room for years. 

“Don't pretend like you don’t know why,” Minho says, and Jisung’s toying with the chain hanging around his neck, staring at Minho’s old sneakers. “Okay, you’re concerned but,” he looks a bit uncertain about what to say, “I didn’t think you’d actually come over.” he continues. 

“I guess I draw the line at you not answering my calls and you breaking up with your boyfriend.” Minho notices Jisung’s expression doesn’t even flinch in the slightest at the mention of it, but proceeds nonetheless. “What’s going on?” Minho thought it would’ve taken hours of prying, doubting Jisung’s stubborn ways would’ve changed.

“Take me somewhere.” Jisung says, tone much more prominent so abruptly. “We’ll talk,” he finally glances up to meet Minho’s gaze, “Promise.” 

…

As expected, it’s awkward. 

Way too awkward for Minho’s liking, despite his normally reserved nature. This is Jisung, somebody he’s been friends with before he learned how to count. Years of teasing, vulnerability, so much shown to each other, it felt like it had all been washed down a drain. Jisung didn’t even hum along to the outdated songs playing on the radio. He just sat there, staring vacantly at their surroundings. 

“You said that,” Minho cleared his throat, “You said you'd talk.” He spoke quietly. Jisung hummed in response. “I don’t know where you want me to start.” He replied, his voice stoic. “There’s no starting point and ending point, Sung.” Minho says. He was never one to lose his patience, but something about the situation took all of the patience he had left and just yanked it away. 

It goes silent again, before he hears a sniffle or two. He sighs internally, “I’m sorry. I-”

The sniffles turn into full on sobs, and Minho can his friend rubbing his eyes from his peripheral view. He bites his tongue, pulling over to the curb on a lonely road. The streetlight near them is broken, but the gas deli by the gas station gives them enough light that makes it manageable to see. 

Minho unbuckles his seatbelt, taking the younger into his arms. He’s wailing, loud sobs ringing throughout the confined space of the car. It’s so intimate, all the initial tension seeming to have faded away. Jisung starts to calm down, sobs watering back down to sniffles, but he makes no move to leave Minho’s embrace.

“I dunno what’s been going on with me.” Jisung says, muffled into the sleeve of Minho’s sweater. “It’s like,” he finally pulls away, trying to keep his composure. “I feel so stuck, and I just,” He sighs, staring longingly at the deli up the road. “I’m tired of doing the same thing over and over again, it’s so… boring.” He almost laughs dryly at himself, but Minho isn’t amused in the slightest. 

“Everyday, I go to meetings, then I come home and you take me somewhere to eat or do something, and then … it’s always like you and Seungmin are fucking fighting and he calls me and complains about it.” He throws his head back, huffing. “He’s always fighting with somebody, Hyung.” Jisung grumbles. Minho hums, “For somebody you claimed to have loved, you don’t speak too highly of him.” Minho teases, only slightly, and Jisung turns to him with a pout and puffy eyes. 

“That’s not it, you know that. I-I really do like Seung, a lot. It’s just, I find myself looking at his flaws and imperfections closer than I look at everything I like about him. And it’s not just with him,” He pauses, and looks away. “It’s with everybody.” He admits, and Minho could imagine the shame bubbling low in Jisung’s stomach, but he gets his friend’s issue. 

He lets Jisung continue, “I broke up with him because I got bored.” And Minho practically feels the sting of it, and he’s not even the one Jisung’s talking about. “Not of him, obviously. Just of everything. I’m tired of it.” Jisung blinked, not really expecting Minho to say anything more about it.

“He’s not a bad guy,” Minho suddenly says, earning a glance from Jisung. “Really? Rich coming from you of all people,” he scoffs, and Minho just rolls his eyes and chuckles. “You’re right on that, but,” he exhales heavily, “You shouldn’t have broken up with him because of that. Couples work through issues, not… leave their significant other because of it.” Jisung gulps at that, sigh threatening to leave his lips. 

“You speak like you’ve got so much experience.” 

“Jisung,” Minho tries, looking over to him, reaching out for his hand. “This isn’t about me.” He starts, intertwining their fingers. “He’s your boyfriend, that’s your relationship,” he strokes his thumb over Jisung’s knuckles, “Not mine.” He finishes, tone soft. 

It felt wrong, being this intimate with him. In reality, it was perfectly fine, it could be brushed off as being close friends, or as friends are expected to be over a decade of being familiar with each other. There’s a possibility that Jisung would lose his patience and grip Minho by his nape, kiss him like they wouldn’t see the dawn of tomorrow. 

It’s only possible in the slight glimmer of hope that stirs along with the shame he feels in the pit of his stomach. 

Jisung seems to give up, finally shrugging and shaking his head. “It was selfish and I know, I owe him a really big apology, but,” he chews on bottom lip idly, nerves getting the best of him. “But?” Minho pries, not missing the way a flash of guilt tells on his expression. 

Jisung swallows, eyes trained on the slightly dusty dashboard. “A part of me thought maybe if I broke up with him,” he finally begins, “I’d get a new start, you know?” he asks, hesitantly looking to the latter. 

For once, Minho really didn’t know. 

“Elaborate.” Minho simply says, unlocking their fingers to tuck a strand of hair behind the boy’s ear. 

“I wanna make an effort; to start a new hobby, to do new things, with somebody else.” Jisung admits, and then scoffs. “It’ll be hard with Hyunjin pestering me about Seungmin twenty-four-seven, but I’m tired of being stuck with the same habits and friends,” that one strikes a nerve, Minho nearly flinches, but he lets Jisung continue. “This way I’ll start over with a new partner and new things to do, it’ll be better for me, don’t you think?” His heart is running a mile a minute, because he could be left for others. But the pit of hope continues growing larger at the bottom of his stomach. 

“Yeah, definitely, do what's best for you.” Minho nods in agreement. “That’s all? Why were you so … nervous to tell me that?” He asks, trying to meet his eyes. The car falls silent once again. Another car drives by, and Minho’s eyes follow it through the rear view mirror. Jisung seems to have been thinking of an answer to his question, or perhaps he’s disregarded it, Minho didn’t know. 

He was satisfied with what they spoke about, more than satisfied that Jisung chose to open up about all that’s been clouding his mind. 

He’s just looking out the window when it happens, pondering when Jisung squeezes his hand. He turns back, attention brought back to them, in his little car, in this tiny space. “Because I wanted to start over with you.” It catches him by surprise, not sure he’s heard properly. Jisung doesn’t laugh, he doesn’t tease, his lips are pulled into a tight smile, one that has Minho’s stomach bubbling with fear. 

“Did I hear you correct-”

“Yeah,” he says, all too quickly, as he tends to do when he’s anxious, “It’s okay if you… don’t want to, you’re not obligated to say anything either, if you don’t-” 

The hope in his stomach takes over like a plague, washing over him in waves, boosting his confidence, a smile brought to his face as ironically, he’s the one gripping Jisung’s nape and bringing his face centimeters away from his own. The little compartment between the two seats gets in the way, but it’s manageable. 

“Is this a misinterpretation or do you want me to kiss you?” Minho whispers, Jisung’s hair, slightly greasy, curled up in between his fingers. “I wouldn’t have a problem if you did.” A genuine beam is brought to his face, and Minho tilts his chin up to press his chapped lips to Jisung’s, whose lips aren’t the softest either. 

Fireworks don’t explode, the world around them doesn’t change, and it's not the best kiss, Minho clearly lacks experience, but it’s still them, in Minho’s small car, kissing like amateurs while the deli’s dim lights shine lowly on them. 

Minho can’t be serious, a chuckle slipping past him, and Jisung pulls away, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “What?” He asks, and Minho shakes his head. “If you’re gonna be kissing me, you’ve gotta invest in some chapstick first.” They both share a laugh, the first one of the night. Jisung pulls away, probably uncomfortable because of the angle of the seats, and he sighs comfortably. 

Minho stares a bit too longingly, letting his mind wander about how that whole interaction seemed so simple, when he’s been detailedly constructing it for years. “Don’t look at me like you’re suddenly in love with me, stupid.” Jisung rolls his eyes, glancing back over at Minho. 

“No, it’s not that,” he responds, quietly. “It’s just,” Minho looks down to his lap with a smile he couldn't control, “that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile like that in awhile.” Minho goes back to looking out the window, licking his lips like he can still taste Jisung on them. 

Jisung just hums, a little amused scoff hidden somewhere in there, arms crossed. 

They sit in silence for a bit, enjoying the presence of one another. Minho can say confidently that he likes this little utopia of a spot they ended up in. 

“You know this doesn’t solve all your problems, right?” Minho asks him, turning back to face him suddenly. 

Jisung doesn’t move, nodding, looking out his side of the car’s window. 

Minho doesn’t say much after that. 

With him sitting there, the countless earrings sparkling brightly in the low light, he wonders if Jisung can feel the same security as himself, the same feeling like everything’s okay. 

The feeling of content. 

And from the way Jisung can't stop himself from smiling when they start to drive back home, he assumes he feels content too.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, kudos and comments are always appreciated !!


End file.
